A tomato soup recipe to cure all ills. Roasting is the secret.
When cabin fever hits, I am not a pretty sight. My hair has a static-inspired halo decidedly unholy. I do not remain calm. I pace and fidget.
I am not the serene goddess you may think I am.
I am itchy and creaky and sick to death of pilled winter sweaters. Not to mention, the Arctic Vortex. Capricious El Nino.